Surprise from the stars
by The Reckless of 1998
Summary: In life there are many surprises, but what the Doctor didn't expect was to receive a surprise, a gift, from River Song, even after she left for the Library. With many in danger, the Doctor must ask the help of Clara and the child he didn't think the universe would allow him to have. Read and Review please :) Implied 11/River
1. Last Glances

**Surprise from the stars**

**Hi everyone, so yeah, this is the first chapter of my Doctor Who story, which is a time-child. It's set during series 7 part 2, so River has gone to the library, but there is implied 11/River for those of you who ship it. **

**This first Chapter will feature River, and this is the only time she'll appear unfortunately. Or is it? I hope you like this so I'll let you check it out for yourselves now…**

_Chapter 1 – Last Glances _

She could remember everything of that day. Not that she allowed herself to forget. She remember the light but biting wind that hit her as she travelled through the empty streets, save for a few ordinary humans who where nothing but a blur in the back of her mind. They were not the most important things in the memory.

The most important thing in that memory was the small warm body held up against hers, trusting her arms to be a place of safety. She had stopped. Not wanting to go through with the rest of the journey. She turned and sat on a bench, in a typical London Street, bathed in the soft orange glow of the streetlight.

The body in her arms fidgeted and let out a small moan before curling up against River's chest, resuming sleep whist clinging to her shirt. River looked down and pushed the blonde locks out of the face of her child, her son. A small smile was playing on his features during his sleep and not for the first time, River wondered of what her son dreamed. Was he dreaming of the stars, of running through all the galaxies the universe had to offer, just like his father?

River buried her head in her son's soft hair as she hugged the small body closer. She wanted to imprint everything into her memory forever, until the day she died.

She pulled her face again and looking into the boys small face.

3. It was a constant, as well as the end. She had discovered him when she was three months along. She had intended to only keep him for three days at the most, before doing what had to be done. But before she knew it, her arms were still clinging around him three months later, which later on passed to three years.

Keeping him for so long was reckless, but every time she thought of the danger his life was in, she played ignorant. She had always been an independent woman, never afraid of anything. She knew how to handle herself and believed to be able to handle a small child as well.

A child, who should never have been able to exist, but did. She closed her eyes and imagined the look on _His_ face, the look she had imagined many times before, the look she would receive after showing him his son. Many ideas had run through her head: Angry with her for not telling him, shock at the idea of a child, fear for his child's safety.

It was obvious how many people would want this child dead, no matter how innocent he was, but cold-blooded revenge against the child's father.

River's grip tightened again as she blocked away the thoughts. She knew the Doctor would love a child, he was an overgrown one himself. But she knew he would worry. Worry more than them both; it's a common thing with people over the age of 900. The more he worried, the more scared he would be, so she hadn't told him.

Dodging the man for three years was both difficult and damn near impossible. He knew she was hiding something, so she knew what to do.

It wasn't going to be easy, she knew that. But she breathed in deep and stood from the bench, clutching the infant tighter than ever, but gentle so he wouldn't awaken. She'd given him a warm sweet drink with a simple concoction to let him sleep long and easy for once as he normally rose at the brink of dawn.

As she reached near the end of the travelling, she knew she'd never hold him again, never see his green eyes that were identical to his father's again, never hear the solid heartbeat against hers as he fell asleep, never see his cheeky smile and light in his eyes beneath the locks of his blonde hair.

She reached the end and crouched down low, careful as she placed him on the brightly painted bench besides the door. She glanced up into the cloudless sky, illuminated only by the pinpricks of far off suns, before glancing back down and lightly tugging on the wooly jumper she had dressed her son in to keep him warm. Non-descriptive clothing would make it impossible to trace him to anyone, and with the single human heart he had inherited, he would blend in, just become another statistic and that pained her.

She gently moved a lock of the warm blonde hair from his face before kissing his forehead one last time and rising from the ground.

The darkness of the night was fast fading into a pink tinge, indicating dawn was not too far off. When sunlight arose, he would be found and taken in. They would ask questions, looking for the answers, which he would no longer know himself.

River kept her eyes on him for as long as she could, before blowing him one last kiss and whispering.

'Goodbye, Jonah.'

She turned and ran, before being evaporated by the blue static of her Vortex manipulator. The last glance of her sleeping son was forever burnt into her memory, as it was also one of the last things she thought of as her memory was donated to save the thousands of lives within the Library.

Her child, her son, her Jonah.

**What do all you guys think? 11 will be in the next one if you wish for me to carry this on. If you have a second please review :) **


	2. Fish Custard

**Surprise from the stars**

**Hey everyone! I can't believe how many views I've had on this! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed/favoured/followed this story, it means a lot! So I decided to continue with this story and couldn't wait to write this chapter. This one is set nine years later from chapter 1 and 11 and Clara will be in this so I hope you all like it :) Just so you all know, this is set just after episode 8. **

_Chapter 2 – Fish Custard _

2013

The sun was streaming through the slightest gap in my curtains. The sun was millions of miles away yet it still managed to target my closed eyelids every morning without fail. A cloud may have shifted as the sunlight died and I attempted to return to the land of dreams again. I've had plenty of strange dreams in my life, but last night was the strangest, I dreamt there was a box, a blue box, and it was bigger on the inside.

The doors had been closed, yet I knew it was bigger on the inside. Someone was inside, a man; he was calling my name, shouting it louder each time. I'd put my hand on the door, but the second my skin made contact with the wood, a violent shock bolted through my veins. I don't know what would have happened next.

Stupid sunlight.

My mind began to fade away again; you know when you're half asleep and if given a chance you begin to drift off again? Well that was just happening and I felt at ease when the shrill sound of my alarm rang in my ears, splitting my drums open.

I manoeuvre my arm towards my bedside cabinet where the clock normally sat, a ticking time bomb, but it wasn't there. The noise still continued to pierce my drums and for a second I wondered where it could be, then I remembered Maria, one of the House Parents, she had glued my alarm to the top of my wardrobe so I had to climb out of bed to switch it off and wouldn't end up sleeping in again.

I try to block out the sound by tugging my pillow over my head but the sound waves still made it through, so I give up and climb out of bed to climb the side of my wardrobe to switch the demon machine off.

Once silence returned, I watch the ticking hand of the clock as it makes its way around the circular frame. I love time. I don't know why, but realising that there's this constant force throughout the universe that's always there just makes me smile.

I watch the clock for a few more minutes before jumping down and pulling my curtains wide. I look outside across the roofs of many suburban London homes. In the faint distance, I swear I can make out the London eye.

One more glance at the clock tells me if I don't shaft now I'll have to miss breakfast in order to get to school on time

**DW**

I made it on time. For once. It's strange how I love time a great deal, yet I'm terrible at keeping it. I manage to get to my form room just as the bell rings. Thankfully, Mr. Graham isn't here yet. I'm still trying to get the hang of my school tie which is untied around my neck and he would love to take the opportunity to mock me. I've been at secondary school for a total of a month and he doesn't seem to like me very much, don't know why.

A lot of my teachers act a little strange around me for some reason, as do a lot of people. I remember when I was eight and I was at the park, a mother took her child's hand and pulled her away from me when she lined up behind me for the slide. It's as if they sense that I'm dangerous or something. I'm not dangerous, the worst thing I've ever done was probably set the toaster in the Group Home on fire. It was an accident!

I had been 'fixing' it previously that day and decided to test it out, which led to a lot of sparks and flames. When Karl, another House Parent, found the remains of a burnt out toaster in the sink, I was the main suspect. I suppose the dead giveaway had been the panel had been removed, showing the wires which certainly looked messed with.

I cross the worn out carpet to where my best friend Artie is sitting. We both sit at the back during lessons. Not because we don't like school, but because every teacher in this place looks at me funny, like I'm not human or something so I moved to the back and Artie, being the faithful friend he is, moved with me.

His head's in that book again_. Summer Falls_ by Amelia Williams. I've read some of her stuff before and I really liked it, the writer kept you captivated on every word. Normally I don't like old books, but Charles Dickens, Agatha Christie and Amelia Williams' are my special favourites.

'Hey Artie.' I say, but he doesn't respond. I wave in front of his face, still no response. I grab the book out of his hands, causing him to call out 'Hey! Give me it back, Jonah!' I scan the page he's on and smile.

'Wait till you get into chapter eleven, it's the best.' Artie smiled and took his book back.

'You're the second person to say that.' Artie said as he placed his book mark on the page. 'Clara said she cried at it. Did you?' I pull a face and shake my head just as Mr. Graham came in. I _did_ cry a little for some reason, but if the History teacher heard that then I'd _never_ live it down.

There's another thing for you. I love history. My primary teacher acted strange around me as well, but she always remarked how good I was. I love it, nearly as much as the sound as a ticking clock. I sit down and pull at my tie. Mr. Graham was gulping down coffee as if it were nectar before he set off down the register. Artie swapped the fictional book for the blue history ones we all have before turning to me a whispering.

'Did Maria say you could come to tea tonight?' I nod.

'Yeah, she's met your dad before so she says I'm allowed.' Artie suddenly looked a little worried.

'Dad's at a meeting tonight. Clara's looking after me and Angie.' I shrug my shoulders and say it's ok as long as Maria or anyone else didn't find out. For some reason at the Group home, they have to check that everyone in the whole universe isn't an axe murderer before letting me go anywhere. Background checks are normal, but for me my social worker and the House Parent's go full force. I don't know why. I continue to mutter to Artie, asking to copy his maths homework, for which he rolls his eyes but slips the sheet to me under the desk.

'I hear talking.' Mr. Graham sighs as he starts the register. I quickly copy up the maths work, adding a few mistakes here and there to make it believable before opening my history book and getting ready for the lesson. I glance at the clock above the door and squint my eyes. Today was going to eventful. Important even. I can tell just from the ticking clock. I don't know why.

**DW**

The frown appeared on Clara's face as soon as she pulled the oven door open. Her soufflé had failed. Again. She pulled the dish out, held carefully between her oven gloved hands. She placed it on the cooling rack and frowned at it.

'I just don't get it. My mum used to make it all the time and it never failed for her.' Clara said as she poked at the disaster of a pudding with a spoon.

'Maybe soufflé's just don't like you.' Angie grinned, looking up from her phone. Me and Artie just shook with silent laughter from the sofa. Clara see's us laughing and chucks the kitchen towel at us.

'You two can go get some custard then from the corner shop.' Artie sighs.

'Can't Angie get it?' Angie glares at her younger brother from her phone. 'Jonah's our guest, and I'm his friend, we shouldn't have to fetch anything.' Clara raised her eyebrows and even I knew she wasn't going to change her mind. Artie sighed again and we both pulled our shoes on and headed for the front door when Clara grabbed my shoulder and handed me the money.

'I'll trust you with it Jonah, last time I sent either Artie or Angie, they said there was no change yet the next day there were sweet wrappers in their jackets.' Clara looked at Artie who became interested in the wallpaper of his hallway before he opened the door and left. I gave Clara a smile before following after Artie. I like Clara. She's one of the few adults who don't act like I'm some sort of weirdo. I must have had a blush on my face or something because as we walked away from the front door, Artie turned to me with a smile.

'You like Clara.' He sang as he walked backwards.

'No I don't!' I felt my face warm up. I like Clara, but not in the way Artie was saying, but my face always goes red no matter what so my case wasn't supported by my face.

'Too bad for you anyways, she's got a boyfriend. Or at least me and Angie think he's her boyfriend. They go out together a lot.' I shrug as we reach the pavement.

'Never knew she was seeing someone.'

'Yeah. He's funny, but a bit weird, like you. I think he might be an alien.' I stop in my tracks.

'Why do you think he's an alien?' Artie grinned at me.

'His chin. There's no way on earth that he's human with a chin like that. There he is now.' Artie nodded behind me to a tall and skinny man practically skipping to the front door of the Maitland's family home. Artie was right, his chin was a bit strange. Then again, his complete form just screamed strange. He wore some weirdo suit and...was that a bowtie. Ok, the bowtie was probably the only cool thing about him.

'He's like you with your ears.' I felt my face burn again. I once managed to convince Artie that I was an alien and used my ears as proof. They stick out quite a bit, even beneath my blonde mad curly hair.

'You've both got strange ears. Maybe you're related. You look a bit similar. He could maybe your brother or something.' I rolled my eyes as Artie placed a carton of custard on the counter in the shop. The man did have sticky-out ears like me, but he only pointed his out because I once asked for his help to maybe find my real family. I don't know my last name so we couldn't search online (I only know my first name because it was stitched inside the navy woolly jumper I was found wearing).

So both of us caught the bus into town and sat in busy locations and looked at every passing face to see if there was any resemblance to me. There seemed to be quite a few, but I gave up hope after a while. Artie occasionally points a person out, but I think even he's giving up hope, but I know he'd help me to the end.

We headed back down the road to Artie's house, the custard in his hand and the receipt and exact change in mine for Clara.

'We're back!' Artie calls out when he opens the door. We leave our trainers and head into the kitchen where Clara was serving up a plate of fish fingers, peas and mash. The man from before (Clara's boyfriend?) was sitting at the table, a goofy smile on his face as he held onto a cup of tea.

'Hello Artie!' He said cheerfully to my friend.

'Hi Doctor.' Artie smiled back as he placed the custard on the counter and I gave the change to Clara. Clara turned to her friend.

'Doctor, this is Jonah, Artie's best friend. Jonah, the Doctor.' The Doctor? Doctor who? The man smiled at me and held out his hand. I looked at it and decided to shake it. I felt some sort of weird sensation in the palm of my hand and I was sure he felt it too as he looked straight at me. I turned my head away and looked up at Clara as she handed me a plate of dinner. She called out to Angie who dramatically sighed and joined us at the table.

I watched the Doctor out of the corner of my eye and I'm certain he was doing the same to me. When I turned he quickly looked away and attempted to steal some of the custard Clara was pouring out but she slapped his hand away.

'You can wait just like everyone else.' The man scowled in a funny way and sat at the table with the rest of us. He picked up a few fish fingers and left them on his plate. Once we cleared out plates, Clara gave us all a bowl of custard and Artie turned to me.

'Do the thing, Jonah.' I smiled at him and pick up a left over fish finger and dipped the fish into the thick yellow substance and heard Angie mimic sick.

'Aw god, don't _eat_ it!' She said and me and Artie smiled as I placed the food in my mouth and chomped on the fish, then proceeding to repeating the action. Angie went over dramatic and left the table with her own bowl custard.

'I'm not sitting here if _two_ of you are going to do that.' I frowned at her words. Two? Artie wasn't dipping any fish fingers in custard, he hated it after I made him try it. I love it. I look at Clara was pulling a face herself, but smiling. She wasn't eating anything. I then look over to the Doctor who was staring straight at me, half a fish finger in his hand. In was coated in custard and so was his face.

He liked fish fingers and custard as well? Artie leaned forward and whispered in my ear.

'He's just as strange as you, maybe you are related.' I shook his words off but the idea remained at the back of my mind. The Doctor was still staring at me. I stared back. We both finished the rest of our fish fingers and custard, still staring at each other, whilst Artie watched us both with his jaw hanging open.

Once all the remaining fish fingers were gone, we all remained in silence, just staring at each other. Eventually, the Doctor smiled and sat back in his chair.

'You like fish custard then?' I nod slowly. The man beamed at me 'Then you're cool. It's so hard to find someone else who likes it.' I smile at him, I understand that. Back at the Home, Maria scolds me for eating fish custard. Nobody else in the universe as I know of likes the strange combination. But this weird man does. Maybe Artie's right – maybe we are related.

The Doctor continued to stare at me before smiling again and straighting his bowtie. 'Nice tie. Bowties are cool.' As soon as I said this his eyes look as if they're going to pop. A strange silence hangs in the air before Artie speaks. I nearly forgot he was sitting right next to me.

'Hey Jonah, do you want to head out to the park now?' The park? We'd never arranged to go to the park but I knew if Artie was going to have a lot of speculations he is going to want to share so I nod and thank Clara for dinner, who smiled and playfully tugs my cheeks, calling me cute. Cute? Me? I'm anything but cute since I'm really skinny and so tall it seems I was maybe stretched in a toffee puller, along with my mad curly blonde hair, but its Clara's friendly way so I just smile.

Artie and me head into the hall for our coats and shoes. I say bye to Angie who's captivated by the laptop. As we leave the house, I look back just by chance and in the kitchen, the Doctor is still staring at me.

**So, what do you think? I'm sorry for the lack of any serious action, but that will come soon if you want me to go on. Let me know what you think in your reviews and tell me if you've got any suggestions for this story. **


	3. Frighten the life out of me

**Surprise from the stars **

**Hey everyone, SO SORRY for the wait on this chapter, been busy like you wouldn't believe! I owe you guys big time on this so I made it extra good just for you guys. I hope you all like it and let me tell you this is where the action starts. **

_Chapter 3 –Frighten the life out of me_

Both me and Artie are out of breath when we finally reached Brought High Street Park. We sprinted all the way from Artie's house which is just under a mile away. Once inside the safe zone of the park, Artie momentarily clutches at the railings whilst I clutch at the stitch in my ribs. We slowly drag our feet to the double swing set where we drop into the rubber seats, incapable of moving again.

'That. Was. So. Weird.' Artie says between his now fading gasps. I only manage to nod as my throat felt as if it were on fire. Thankfully the fire is dying down.

'There is no way both of you can manage to eat that stuff and not be related. You're both super strange.' I scowled at Artie and begin using my toes to push the swing back and forth.

'Seriously Jonah. Maybe he's your brother or cousin or something. You look alike and I doubt fish fingers and custard are loved anywhere else around the world.' I barely heard Artie as he raved on and on about me and the Doctor being related. Normally if Artie see's a connection and babbles on, I'd tell him to shut up, but today I feel as if that is impossible. There were links between the two of us which were uncanny. The Doctor managed to eat my favourite meal which disgusts everyone else in a thousand mile radius, he did have a similar face to me, plus he had the exact shade of green eyes I have. Maybe we are related.

I should have listened more to Artie; if I had I would have maybe been able to run just in time, but as usual my mind is somewhere else. I never knew he was behind me until the floor somehow manages to smack me in the face. It took several seconds for me to realise that the floor hadn't come to me, I've fallen. Not fallen, pushed.

I sit up and looked into the gleaming, obviously unintelligent eyes of Thomas Dane, the local playground bully, who's taken a keen interest in me since year seven started. Thomas is half way through five foot despite being the youngest in our year. I'm starting five foot now, but that didn't matter to Thomas Dane, I'm just a piece of scrap compared to him, as was anyone else who challenged him. He's strongly built, making him suitable for boxing, wrestling, anything like that whereas me, I'm just an overgrown twig with curls.

We never went to the same primary school, but I've seen him around before, playing football with his older brothers and beating up anyone under his size. We're a similar height so he's never bothered me before, but when we started year seven and he discovered that I'm an orphan, well that was his reason for him being better than me. I lift myself off the tarmac and roll my eyes at Thomas.

'What do you want now Thomas?' Artie said as he stepped away from his swing to stand beside me. He could stand up to Thomas in words, but he is a lot shorter and it would take one punch from Thomas to knock his lights out.

'You two freaks are in my territory.' It's sort of true, anyone from the nearby Hammington Estate believed the park to be their territory, but leave them alone and they leave you alone, but obviously not today.

'It's a set of swings Thomas, just leave us alone. Shouldn't you be somewhere beating up some eight year old for his bike or something?' Wrong thing to say. Thomas just grins the grin he is famous for. The 'I'm-gonna-make-your-life-a-misery' grin.

'Shut it Orphan Boy. Go home and cry to mummy, oh, wait, you don't have one do you. She took one look at you and chucked you away.' Thomas grinned and I snap. I don't know how but within the space of five minutes, I somehow seem to have an entire wrestling match with Thomas Dane. At the end I come off the worst, as usual. Thomas has managed to give me a swollen eye and bleeding nose, where as he had only gained a small bruise on his jaw. It's a thick purple, which must hurt but it didn't seem to faze him at all as he laughs and saunters off. I stay on the ground, clutching my eye, whilst Artie lays breathless once again next to me, he'd daringly jumped in but Thomas just batted him away with one spare hand, knocking the wind out of both me and my best friend.

**DW**

I'm more than happy to head back to the group home, intending to repeatedly bang my head against the wall to hopefully render me unconscious, but Artie kindly reminds me that if Maria see's I've been in another fight then I'll be in a worse hell than double science with Thomas Dane. Stopping at Artie's for a few hours more would be a good idea so that my swollen eye will have a chance to cool off but I just need to be alone. I scale the grassy banking and climb over the short crumbling stone wall and begin to run back to the group home, ignoring Artie calling after me.

From Brought High Street Park it will take me exactly thirty-seven minutes to reach the home, causing me to arrive at about quarter to six. It's early September and the nights will begin to pull in soon but I would have never expected it to be nearly pitch black in the space of twenty minutes. The entire sky has darkened and only a few street lamps are working so instead of a constant glow there was a faint stretch of orange here and there, casting more shadows than reality would allow. I normally go through the backstreets of a nearby estate as it's quicker but just looking at the stretching dark chasms are just enough to make the hair on the back of my arms stand tall. If I didn't go through the alley's it would add another twenty minutes onto my time outside and the dark seriously freaks me out. I take a breath and decided to chance the alleys.

The darkness seems to have grown even more as I travel and with one light working in someone's backyard a sickly yellow glow illuminated the puddles and caused shadows to dance around and I seriously become paranoid. I tug at my buttoned coat, clench my fists within my pockets and move fast to avoid the unseen demons lurking in the dark. I turn around a few more stretches and nearly would have walked straight into it if the light emitted from it hadn't highlighted my shoes. I stared up at the monument of sorts, gaping. Normally in the dark my nightmares come to life but now a dream had. Standing, as if proudly, in the middle of the alley just off from Charleston Street was a high blue box, the exact same box from my dreams. It was a police box, like those ones from the nineteen-sixties. The window panes which were displayed around the box had emitted a pure white light, not the harsh artificial orange of the street lamps, but a pure white. I'm unsure of what the box is really doing in the middle of the alley amongst rubbish bins and broken back gates so I warily take a step forward, arm outstretched to grasp the handle and when my hand finally meets the cool metal surface of the door's handle I snatch my hand back immediately as I feel the blood within my veins bubble and boil, as if excited about the box. I hold my hand back and just stare at the box; bewildered by the feeling I had just felt but curious enough to remain interested.

I'm sorely tempted to reach out and see what happens if I touch it for a second time but my musings are interrupted by a piercing scream which seemed to echoes through the streets and rattle inside my skull. I take one last look at the box before I run not away from the sound of danger but to it. Completely reckless and possibly life threatening but that doesn't invade my mind as I pick up speed to where the sound increases in pitch.

I exit the maze of alley's onto a street and see a woman, probably in her thirties dressed rather smartly, standing there in the middle of a dark and desolate street screaming her head off for no apparent reason. There is nobody attacking her, nobody anywhere in fact, not even at the windows of the stacked houses, little old women and families looking for the source of the disturbance. She's still screaming and I don't know what to do. I shout out to her but I doubt she can hear me over her own piercing screams.

I move steadily up the street toward her on the edge of my feet, ready to turn and run if I need to. I approach her step by step and see the scrunched up expression on her face, mouth gaping wide, her hands covering her ears as if to block out the sound of her own screams and tears streaming down her cheeks. It doesn't seem like the usual tears of pain but tears of fear, the kind children produce after a nightmare.

I take another step forwards and become just within arm's reach of her which I think is what she wanted. The moment when she can she reaches out and grips both my shoulders in a fierce lock and begins shaking me, her face still scrunched up as she screams. I shut my eyes and try not to listen to her screams as she shakes me but in a matter of moments I no longer have to try to block the sound out as she suddenly stops screaming within the blink of an eye.

I open my own eyes to see her face slacken just as her grip does and she stands there like a zombie before all colours from her face drains and she just falls. Falls to the cold damp road on an ordinary street in the middle of London. Her face is pale against the black tar of the road, illuminated by the now seemingly softened glow of a nearby street lamp.

I stand over her, looking the guilty party, watching her for any sign of movement or life. Eventually I stoop down and press my cold fingers to her own cooling neck. Nothing. There's no pulse. Nothing. I stand back up immediately and back up a few steps, unable to take my eyes of the now cooling corpse of the woman.

'_At least she looks peaceful now,_' I think as I study her now relaxed face. Whatever had caused her to scream had gone, vanished like her life and now she was peaceful.

From out of the shadows across the street I see a figure emerge and I squint in the darkness to see the man walking forwards. It takes him a few steps before he comes far enough out of the dark for me to see his face. It's him. The Doctor. He's looking between me and the now dead woman lying on the ground, her white blonde hair spread out beneath her head like an innocent halo. He takes one last look at the woman before lifting his head and looking straight into my eyes. I gulp and begin to breathe heavily as I know what he could be thinking.

'_He thinks you killed her,' _My inner voice speaks softly in my ear. '_He thinks you did this.' _But the voice is proven incorrect as the Doctor kneels down beside the body of the woman and pulls out a torch which gives off a green glow and speaks to me.

'I know it wasn't you.' He says as he moves the torch thing up and down and across her body before holding it close to his face in the dark and peering at the side of it, reading an engraving maybe?

'How do you know that?' I'm not trying to sound like a proud killer but here I am standing over a dead body, the only person on the street and he's only just met me so how could he know I'm not a killer?

As if he read my mind he looks up from the body and gives me a small smile.

'I can see it in your face, you could never kill somebody.' I move closer to the dead woman and study the body. There are no markings on the body so whatever killed her was inside her, right? I must have spoken out loud because the Doctor answered my inner voice question.

'It was something inside her head, something inside many people's heads.' I frown at his answer as he stands up tall, pockets his torch thing and looks at me under his floppy dark hair.

'Was she screaming?' I just stare at the woman; the Doctor's question seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

'Jonah?' I snap out of my daze. 'Was she screaming?' I nod as my throat seems to have dried up. The Doctor bites his lip as he also studies her fallen form.

'What are you doing here?' I ask him as I can't take my eyes off her.

'Looking for you?' I snap out of my daze at this. He met me a few hours ago now he's searching London for me, why?

'You left this at Artie's.' He holds out my school bag and my question is answered. The Doctor is shooting me small glances and he turns to me fully, his head tilted as he is now studying my face.

'What happened to your eye?' I've totally forgotten about the fight I had with Thomas Dane and my hand flies out to the rim of my eye to probe the bruise forming there.

'Nothing.' I mutter and the look on my face must have said the topic was shut but he didn't stop. He grabbed my arm lightly and turns me so he can stare at me properly in the only available light source.

'What happened?'

'Nothing, just someone I know mucking about and hit me. It's nothing.' I can tell he doesn't buy it but I shake it off. It's not his business. I tug my arm away and step forward back towards the woman's body which has now faded of human colour. The wind is picking up and my curls are slapping me in the face as if I'm responsible for her death. I didn't know her, I didn't do anything to her but guilt still washed up inside my mind like an incoming tide.

'What killed her?' I ask him.

'What do you think?' The Doctor says as he stands beside me. I shrug my shoulders.

'Nobody hurt her, she was just screaming. Screaming so loud as if...there was something hurting her on the inside.' I remember the description I gave her before in my mind – she'd been screaming in terror, like a child does after a nightmare. That's stupid, how do you die from a nightmare? I turn to the Doctor and catch him looking at me and I'm sure he can read my mind as his face is clearly telling me that idea in the back of my head is right – she died of fright.

'How?' I ask as I turn back to the body. The Doctor besides me shrugs his shoulders in the wind and I see in his green eyes that somehow he feels just as guilty for her death just as I do, as if he could have prevented it. I think on the idea of something scaring someone to death – it's impossible isn't it? But then again I like the idea of impossible becoming possible. I ponder on the thought as I stand in the wind, thinking about if something can frighten the life out of somebody, then how?

**Chapter end! Again, so sorry for the wait on that chapter guys. The next one will come sooner I promise. If you liked this chapter I wouldn't mind hearing about it so please take a minute to review with you r ideas and opinions on this chapter and I'll get writing. **


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